


minesweeper.

by cl3rks



Category: The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: Boring Office Parties, Depicted Sexual Content, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, i love tommy, idk what this is tbh, if you find anything though lemme know, just a redpill mans in a bluepill world, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: What was it, he wondered, sitting in those scratchy clothes as you watched him, that made him first notice you? God, he couldn't remember, but he remembered Minesweeper so fondly that it made his heart hurt, just a little.





	minesweeper.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhh i love this man? keanu can punch me in the face but he's too kind to do that. 
> 
> changing my username again, probably to cl3rks or back to gaskarthwolf keep your eyes open, i guess. remember, i always save my old usernames as placeholder pseuds so you can still look it up to find my original user.

You two met at some dumb office party, celebrating some holiday none of you really cared about while simultaneously welcoming the new interns. They’d seen each other around the bullpen before, but you always sort of entered as you came; quiet, without a sound.

He found himself looking for you the more he saw you, purposefully timing his coffee breaks for when you were in the break room. He could be seen heating up some microwaveable burrito while you sat at the lunch table, or even making sure he was leaning against the wall by the water cooler when you passed. He thought he was more subtle than he was, joking around with you from time-to-time.

At the party, however, you were faux-laughing at some joke Stan from accounting was telling you. He knew it was fake, too, because you were being so loud. He walked over to you, finally introducing himself, extending his hand all-professional to you.

“Thomas,” he told you, eyes warm and smile bright as you shook his hand, his warm, larger hand gripping yours tightly. Your handshake was firm, a lot firmer than half the men in your department, and his smile grew even wider at that. “Having fun?”

You mentioned your name in passing, he almost didn’t hear it, but he said it suited you. “And no, I’m not.”

It was your idea to go play Minesweeper at your desk, the two of you working out which blocks to press, your voice gentle as he pointed and rolled his sleeves up, loosening his tie.

“You look nice like that,” you urged him, the soft giggle that you added at the end made the bland space less-so. “Very casual, I like it.”

“Oh, well – casual's my middle name!” Thomas told you with a grin and cock of his head, his short hair ruffling in the slightest. “Now, your turn.”

He found himself watching you with each selected block, then another, calling you a cheater as you laughed shortly, the sound genuine and warm.

Your relationship grew like a weed; taking breaks together, sending each other notes over the private work chatroom, even going so far as to risk paper airplanes to each other from across your identical desks. Eventually, someone got canned and you switched desks to shuffle across from his, making it easy for him to peek over the edge of the divider and wiggle his eyebrows at you to ease whatever work tension you clearly had, or even put a little sticky note of support atop the divider.

He took you out on dates a lot, much to your surprise. The movies, a pool hall, a bar, a diner, etc. He loved taking you places, loved seeing you in _normal_ clothes as opposed to dress pants or a skirt and a dress shirt. He loved your various t-shirts, all about bands, popular trends, phrases, or just something blank: he loved them all.

(The date after the diner is when you two first had sex, easing tension while telling him he had some lettuce in his teeth as he rolled his hips into yours. Surprisingly strong arms on either side of your head to hold himself up, making some comment about how pretty you looked in the shitty, 40-watt lighting of his bedside lamp.)

He eventually made a drawer for you at his place, and you made one for him at yours. You each had a section of each other’s closest, because, granted, work clothing needed to be hung up when it wasn’t being haphazardly torn off your bodies and thrown somewhere in the room.

(He found out you liked to sing in the shower, voice loud and imperfect as the shower walls made up for a bit of that. You told him you liked the acoustics of his bathroom as you dried your hair, his long fingers fumbling to tug at your towel as you dropped it, telling him that you had just showered, even though he knew that, and that you pressed on with that small detail as he laid back on the bed and you straddled him, still telling him as you sunk his cock inside of you and rode him.)

You introduced him to family at some point, he met your sister first and then your aunt, by chance, at a grocery store then again at the laundromat down the street. He met your parents over some family reunion picnic and for once, the world didn’t seem so dull, so bland.

(But then he became aware and suddenly, you were no longer this radiant person in a bland world: you were a radiant person wearing bland clothes in a dangerous world, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with some friends as you looked down at him, eyebrow quirked as you grinned, a soft giggle in remembrance, _“Hey, Tommy – too bad we can’t play Minesweeper, huh?”_ He was the only one who found it funny, stroking the plug at the back of his head as his lips quirked upwards.)

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!!!!!


End file.
